When two popular science magazines – out of about 17 in circulation – ceased publication in the same year, one commentator said, “The science magazines didn’t shake out. They fell apart.” The general manager of one of the failed magazines said, “There was a perception that they were irrelevant.” One of the publishers remembered being in a “state of shock” as the failures emerged.
The year? 1986. What just a few years earlier had been called a “science boom” in the media industry was now dubbed a “science crash.” Cries of despair came from the science and science journalism communities, worried that interest in science “was a fad.”
The same worries have now reappeared 40 years later, as publishers have cut the science and environmental reporting staff at many newspapers and magazines. Perhaps the biggest shock came in late June 2026, when Scientific American was sold to new owners, who immediately laid off 15 staff members and cut salaries of many others. But it followed layoffs of science and environment writers at The Washington Post (where one of us, Chris Mooney, worked for nearly 10 years), The Wall Street Journal, National Public Radio and CBS News.
One longtime science writer recently worried he was writing a eulogy for science journalism. Another said, “We’re in a greatly diminished journalistic enterprise in this country.” On Bluesky, one commenter said, “The media mass extinction rolls ever onward.”
So, as scholars of science journalism, we wondered: Is this just a cyclical repetition of worries that appear anytime there’s a setback in this field? Or is something new and more troubling happening?The answer is a mix of both.
Scientists have complained about media coverage of science for more than a century, calling it both inadequate and, frequently, inaccurate. Despite many years of increased coverage and better-trained science journalists, scientific organizations routinely call for more and better science journalism.
Less clear is whether nonscientist adults actually want more and will pay to consume science content to a greater extent than they already do – at least when not delivered by celebrities like astronomer Carl Sagan in the 1980s or, in the current era, the former NASA engineer turned award-winning YouTuber and Netflix star Mark Rober.
Two items of context seem relevant.First, it’s not just science journalism that’s in trouble. The entire structure of journalism is changing. The struggle of print publications goes far beyond the science realm and fundamentally reflects the rise of the internet. The changes have arguably been even harder on print newspapers than print magazines.
Some of journalism’s challenges today are economic, some are political. And those are interrelated – the current fervor for profits encourages corporate consolidation and works against smaller outlets willing to forgo money in favor of meeting other goals. Those goals can include recruiting young people into science, or presenting the value of expert knowledge, or expressing awe at the natural world.
And second, in some ways, information and commentary about science is more widely available than ever. Web-only publications, social media feeds, YouTube – all offer those interested in science a much wider array of information than used to be available. It was over a decade ago now that the internet surpassed television as the primary source of science information for the public, according to survey data compiled by the National Science Foundation. The most promising new online venue for science journalism and communication today may be Substack, where individual journalists or personalities can garner their own dedicated, paying audiences. (Yahoo)
